


Stay in the Shallows

by The_Last_Kenobi



Series: Whumptober 2020 [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Has Issues, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Deception, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mistakes were made, Obi-Wan Kenobi Has Issues, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Post-Episode: s04e15 Deception, Post-Rako Hardeen Arc (Star Wars: Clone Wars), lying, why can't they just communicate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26979565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Last_Kenobi/pseuds/The_Last_Kenobi
Summary: Obi-Wan and Anakin talk after the Rako Hardeen mission.Or - rather - they don't. As always, they don't talk.Written for Whumptober 2020Day 12 - Broken Trust
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Whumptober 2020 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956463
Comments: 9
Kudos: 97





	Stay in the Shallows

The door chimed.

Anakin looked up, his brow furrowing.

Ahsoka was spending the night with the troopers on board the Resolute, having spent the evening in hand-to-hand combat training. She had called over an hour ago to let him know she’d see him in the morning before they shipped out.

It was late.

Either there was an emergency and a Master was summoning to Council or a war room, or—

Or it was personal.

Anakin rubbed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, already knowing who was out there, and why.

He had shut down the bond between himself and Obi-Wan Kenobi as soon as the other man had tried to reopen it after his miraculous return from his completely faked, absolutely unnecessary death.

From his lie.

So, he couldn’t sense it was Obi-Wan outside his quarters—but he knew.

* * *

Obi-Wan blinked in astonishment as the door was flung open with blinding speed.

Temple apartment doors were automatic.

In order to open it faster, there had to be a glitch—or a violent use of the Force.

Anakin Skywalker was staring down at him, suddenly inches from his face, and Obi-Wan felt his lack of height—and current lack of hair, still regrowing from his transformation back to his normal face over a week previous.

His former Padawan loomed over him, blank-faced.

“Anakin,” said Obi-Wan. “I’m sorry to disturb you so late.”

* * *

Anakin took in the sight of his former Master.

He didn’t think he’d ever get used to Obi-Wan Kenobi without his trim copper hair and beard, and the image was a stinging reminder of all that the man had done, and done for the purpose of deceiving his best friend, to make him believe in his Master’s death, to hurt him—so that Anakin could make the lie more believable to everyone else.

While Obi-Wan chased conspiracies and ran with murderers.

Alone.

And Anakin fought back rage and tears and the Dark.

Alone.

And now he was here, on his doorstep, in the middle of the night. Anakin felt his eyes narrow; one of his firsts clenched by his side. “Can I help you with something?”

* * *

“Well—” Obi-Wan hesitated, surprised to find himself floundering for words. “—I simply wanted to… I haven’t seen you since Naboo, and we’re both shipping out to different sectors tomorrow. We’ve never set out without saying goodbye before, and I didn’t intend to start now.”

Anakin’s face hardened. “You couldn’t have waited till morning? The 501st is headed to Sullust, again. I need sleep.”

It was obvious that the younger man hadn’t been anywhere near sleep.

But it didn’t seem wise to point that out.

“I ship out in four hours,” Obi-Wan explained. “By the time I’m on the landing platform, you’ll be in the middle of prep.”

“Well then,” his former Padawan bit back. “I suppose it must be the will of the Force that we don’t get a chance to talk this time.” And very deliberately forgetting to say ‘goodbye,’ Anakin Skywalker shut his door in the other man’s face.

* * *

Obi-Wan reeled internally, shocked.

He had been expecting the rage. He’d been on the receiving end of Anakin’s tantrums and eruptions and even justified outrage for the past twelve years. He’d handled it as best he could on Naboo, fresh from his most painful solo mission in years.

But this—

This cold dismissal, this complete lack of familiarity—

Obi-Wan reflected on the past few weeks, trying to figure out what made this whole event so different; trying to figure out why saving Anakin’s only non-Jedi friend (aside, of course, from his wife) wasn’t enough to make up for the deception.

Not even a little.

Anakin kept secrets, Obi-Wan knew. Secret podracing on the lower levels, friends in strange places - something bad that had happened before Geonosis, and his marriage to Padmé, despite the hints Obi-Wan had dropped that he already knew. Anakin refused to talk. Questions, endless questions, but never any answers.

Obi-Wan had acted as Hardeen out of duty, but he had known that the rescue would be _important_ to Anakin. 

Palpatine was the only friend he had _chosen_ , the only person Anakin talked to aside from Padmé—and…and the Chancellor was Anakin’s chosen mentor.

Obi-Wan was merely the stand-in for Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan had hoped Anakin would understand, eventually, even if he needed to yell first—and he always needed to yell first—Obi-Wan could take it. He could always take it.

It didn’t…it didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t how Anakin was, no matter how angry he was feeling.

* * *

Anakin retreated from the door.

The whole time, Obi-Wan’s face hadn’t changed. He was as calm and detached as ever, that serenely confident smile blending with the innocent humility in his eyes.

It was disgusting.

Obi-Wan had watched his own Master die—a good man, a great man, who even Anakin had struggled for years to grieve for—Obi-Wan had held Qui-Gon in his arms after he died, and then twelve years later _decided_ to force his own Padawan to go through the same thing for no reason.

No _good_ reason, that was.

And then he had come here as if nothing had gone wrong, physically bruised and battered and altered from his mission, and looked at Anakin with his strained and battered emotions—as if Anakin could file away the trauma of watching his dearest friend get shot in the chest, topple off a rooftop, and into Ahsoka’s arms, tuck it away under ‘Professional Incidents, No Emotions Necessary’ and just move on.

Talk, like they always did.

About nothing important.

Jokes. Quips. Hello. Goodbye.

* * *

Obi-Wan hesitated; blinked at the closed door.

And walked away.

* * *

The next time Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi met, it was before a campaign in the Outer Rim, their troops assembled together as one force.

“Hello,” Obi-Wan greeted casually.

Anakin smirked. “Ready to trash some droid shebs?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it like _that_ ,” Obi-Wan smirked back.

“Come on then,” cut in Rex. “no time for small talk. We have a war to win.”


End file.
